//------------------------------//
// Prompt #487-Corporate Pinks 
// Story: Ponywatching 
// by ThunderTempest 
//------------------------------//

The room was silent and still. Thin rays of light crept through the curtains, falling over the room. All was well. The covers on the bed rose and fell gently, in time with the occupant’s breathing. And then the alarm went off, and Pinkie Pie groaned, rolled over, and hit the snooze button, before wrapping herself back up in her very comfortable blankets. However, her peace was not to last, as ten minutes later, the alarm went off again, and this time, Pinkie Pie could not ignore it. The pink pony dragged herself out of bed, and trotted over to her bathtub. A few minutes later, she re-emerged, much more awake, and her poofy mane weighed down with water.

Before her hair fully dried out, Pinkie tied it back into a professional style, and inspected it in the mirror. Satisfied with her appearance, Pinkie kept getting ready. Breakfast consisted of two cupcakes, a muffin and a glass of orange juice, and then she was out the door, casually trotting through the streets of Manehatten.

Aside from nearly missing the turn that took her straight to work, Pinkie’s journey was completely uneventful. She entered the glass and steel monolith where she spent her weekdays with a sigh. She didn’t like the job, but it paid, and allowed her to afford her rent, so she could put up with it. Taking the elevator up to her floor, she settled in behind her desk, and got to work.

‘You know, it’s Friday,’ came a thought, ‘You could liven things up a bit.’

Pinkie Pie shook her head, and kept working.

‘Come on, just one little party. Management won’t mind.’ Pinkie Pie tried very hard to ignore the part of her brain that was arguing with her. She couldn’t risk losing her job here, and that meant no streamers, no cake fights and no parties. Pinkie Pie pushed the treasonous thoughts out of her mind, and buckled back down into her work.

It was lunch time, which for Pinkie Pie was a salad sandwich made the night before. She sat in the break room, holding a conversation with one of her co-workers as she ate.

‘Come on, Pinkie Pie. Just pull out the Party Cannon. One little party.’ The thought was like a whisper in her mind. Pinkie Pie shook her head again, trying to dislodge the thought. There was a time and a place for parties, and at work was neither.

‘You used to be fun. Now look at you-just a mindless drone.’ Try as she might, Pinkie couldn’t dispute that thought. She couldn’t remember the last time she had honestly had fun. Not since moving to Manehatten, at the least.

‘Would it kill to just have fun once in a while? And look around you. None of these ponies are smiling. And isn’t that your special talent? Making ponies smile?’ Again, Pinkie couldn’t dispute her rogue thought process. Her mane began to poof back out into its usual shape, the clip holding it in place creaking under the stress.

[Time]

‘But maybe you just aren’t fun anymore. Maybe you’ve forgotten how to even have fun.’

‘Hey!’ Pinkie thought back, ‘I can totally have fun, and I’ll prove it!’ the mane clip strained some more.

“Hey, Everypony!” called Pinkie Pie, climbing up on the table, balancing precariously on her hind legs. She reached into that strange space that was always just out of sight, and her hooves wrapped around the barrel of a familiar object, and pulled.

The mane clip broke, and Pinkie Pie’s hair poofed right back out, settling into her pre-Manehatten style. The Party Cannon’s firing switch rested underneath her hoof. Pinkie aimed the weapon of mass entertainment at a vacant table, and slammed her hoof down on the button. In exactly 0.48 seconds, the table was covered with a tablecloth, full confection spread, and balloons.

Pinkie Pie then did the one thing she knew she was never, ever supposed to do with the Party Cannon, and turned a dial on the side from ‘Casual Party’, past ‘Extreme Party’ and all the way up to a setting labelled ‘Party!!!!!’

“I quit!” said Pinkie, as her boss entered the room to see what all the fuss was about.
She pushed the firing button.

That was the last time anypony in Manehatten saw Pinkie Pie. The sheer force behind the Party Cannon blew the pink pony backwards, through the wall and out to the horizon. But for months afterwards, it was not hard to tell where she had worked from a distance. After all, how many skyscrapers wore party hats?